For the little girls in the audience, a chance to see “Annie” at the Theater at Madison Square Garden is pure wish fulfillment. Fortunately for their parents, Martin Charnin’s bustling production operates on the premise of a family-friendly restaurant with both a sundae bar and an espresso bar: separate but equal buzzes for kids and parents. His “Annie” offers broad jokes and clear story-lines for the tots, while engaging mom and dad with slyly subversive lyrics and social commentary. (The smart book is by Thomas Meehan.)

If anyone ought to know how to put on “Annie,” it’s Mr. Charnin, who wrote the show’s lyrics and directed its 1977 Broadway production to seven Tony awards. Since then, he’s directed the 1997 Broadway revival of “Annie,” several productions overseas, and the current national tour, of which this Madison Square Garden engagement is a part. Here again Mr. Charnin proves he’s the man for the job, walking a fine line between corny sentiments and irony. His “Annie” may not be brilliant, but it’s swift and satisfying.

No stranger to big-name stars, Mr. Charnin also knows how to absorb the outsize presence of Kathie Lee Gifford, who has joined the cast for the show’s New York performances only. Ms. Gifford hasn’t been on Broadway since she filled in for Carol Burnett in the Sondheim evening “Putting It Together” in 2000. Coincidentally, she’s now playing a part made famous by Ms. Burnett in the 1982 film version of “Annie” — Miss Hannigan, the boozy floozy who runs the orphanage with an iron fist. Ms. Gifford’s performance doesn’t approach the lunatic daring that made Ms. Burnett’s turn as Miss Hannigan a classic, but she nonetheless furnishes a sturdy foil for the downtrodden orphans.

Led by Marissa O’Donnell as Annie, the orphans are a competent troupe. They sing and dance well, and they manage the lines respectably. Mr. Charnin encourages them to go for the bright delivery of cartoon characters, but he does the same with the adult characters (like Elizabeth Broadhurst as the prim secretary). And in Ming Cho Lee’s comic-strip-like sets, the concept works.

Ms. O’Donnell, who manages to make Annie’s aw-shucks affect seem natural, carries off her songs (including the overly familiar “Tomorrow”) with casual grace. (It helps that the music director, Keith Levenson, doesn’t milk the songs for all they’re worth.)

And Ms. O’Donnell shines in the crucial scenes with Oliver Warbucks (Conrad John Schuck, in a smart, finely calibrated performance). The young actress clearly feeds off the veteran’s energy, and their delightful soft-shoe duet, “I Don’t Need Anything but You,” is the show’s highlight.

Adroit secondary players flesh out the scenes in a musical odyssey that shows surprising range. In the course of “Annie,” the show drops in an old-time radio show, a Depression-era Hooverville, and a White House meeting with President Roosevelt, among other things. Part of what gives “Annie” its kick is its insistence on being about something significant — in this case, an optimistic kid inspiring a nation in the grip of the Depression.

Of course, musicals aren’t the best place to go for coherent politics — Daddy Warbucks throws banquets while others starve. It’s one of the instances in which Mr. Meehan’s book allows for unmusical-like contradictions. Daddy Warbucks might be greedy and flawed, but can still be a wonderful dad. Miss Hannigan, despite her diabolical hatred for her charges, might yet deserve some pity.

To make such open-minded ideas float in a mainstream hit, you need terrific songs, and Charles Strouse’s music (and Mr. Charnin’s lyrics) more than stand the test of time. There are lovely melodies such as “Maybe,” terrific character-establishing songs such as “Little Girls” and “Something Was Missing,” and thumping production numbers like “It’s a Hard-Knock Life” and “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile.”

Mr. Charnin stages the musical numbers with spirited high kicks and an allembracing kind of glee. He knows that the show’s setting isn’t really Depression-era New York — it’s the Broadway stage, where kids who’ve had it rough find solace in big song and dance numbers. So he brings on the fabulous layers — the giant Christmas tree, the iconic red dress with the white collar, the live dog. For the price of the ticket, anyone can live like Daddy Warbucks for a few hours.

Until December 30 (32nd Street at Seventh Avenue, 212-307-1000).